


As It Seems (Nothing Is Ever Really)

by insouciant



Category: Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: M/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:30:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insouciant/pseuds/insouciant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a secret and nothing is ever really as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As It Seems (Nothing Is Ever Really)

 

Everyone who knows Tom Hiddleston would say that the man has everything. He comes from a good family, received education from the best of schools, and landed in a nice career. That is more than enough for anyone to eye him with admiration and jealousy. However, no one could possibly hate him, because despite all that he has, he is one of the most charming men one could ever meet. So that makes Tom Hiddleston quite the perfect man.

 

But everyone has a secret and the secret that no one knows of Tom is that he is _lacking_ something. So what can a man, who has everything, possibly be lacking? The answer is that he is missing _a heart_ , metaphorically speaking, of course. He is a man born with an _antisocial personality disorder_.

 

Tom Hiddleston is a sociopath.

 

∞

 

Kat licks her lips nervously as Tom leans close beside her to point some mistakes on the screen in front of her. She thought she couldn’t get any luckier when the company decided to hire her, but with having someone as kind _and good looking_ as Tom as her supervisor, she feels like she’s hit the jackpot of her life, despite all the hard work, of course.

 

 _But hey, work hard today and play hard tomorrow, right?_ She tells herself.

 

Although Tom has his own office, he often spends time with his coworkers, helping them out with their load of work, which never seems to end. It is a lot of hard work, but no one ever complains. To get to where they are now, the competition was quite unbelievable and honestly, they’re happy they even have a job, especially with the economy today. Not just a job though, a job at one of the largest corporations in the country.

 

Kat smiles along Tom when the mistyped numbers are corrected, showing more accurate graphs he’s wanted. Quickly, however, Tom’s smile falter and his eyes close with a sigh.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

 

“The presentation I’ve been talking about is in three days. I’ve been organizing the reports together for a couple weeks in the way I always do, but I got an email late last night. They want it presented in a different format this time.” Tom rubs his face and Kat notices how wary he looks.

 

“You know, if you want-”

 

Before Kat can finish her sentence, there is a noise several feet away from them. Their eyes quickly turn to see who or what had caused the noise. Kat misses the way Tom’s face sharpens with a cringe before it changes to that of concern.

 

“Poor Chris, he must have dropped the files again.” Tom catches the adoration in her eyes and his cringe returns. Her attention has shifted from him.

 

His eyes move to Chris, who he never once thought of throwing a glance at. He sees Chris busily pick up his papers scattered all around the floor. Tom looks back at Kat only to find her still watching him. Something snaps inside him for a split second and he calls out, “Chris, do you need any help there?”

 

It’s his voice that finally returns Kat’s attention back to him, but this time, Chris is also looking up at him from the floor, surprise evident on his face.

 

“I’m fine, Tom, but thanks.” He answers slowly.

 

It’s the look of surprise and his naïve face that catch Tom’s interest briefly. It’s as if he’s never expected Tom to notice him. _Wait_ , the voice inside him says and Tom’s eyes are on Chris again. He’s a handsome man, _certainly_ ; tall and muscular. He’s definitely worth laying his hands on at least once. Why didn’t he see this before?

 

“Tom?” Kat calls carefully beside him and his eyes turn to her with a gentle smile.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep at all. Because of that email I received, I basically stayed up all night, trying to reorganize the reports the way they want.” He rubs his eyes tiredly.

 

“Well,” Kat’s eyes begin to fill with worry. “You know what? I can punch in the numbers for you. I’ll do the charts and graphs.”

 

“Oh, Kat,” Tom says with a guilty face. “I really don’t want to trouble you anymore. You already do so much for me.”

 

“It’s okay, really. It’s not a big deal. It’s just punching numbers and all.” Kat smiles, assuring him. Tom places his hand on her arm and squeezes gently.

 

“I honestly don’t know how I would survive here without you. Thank you so much.” He says before turning back to his office.

 

Kat sighs as she looks around her desk packed with files after files that need to be organized and submitted as soon as possible. It is going to be a hell of a long week.

 

“Kat!” There is a not-so-subtle whisper and Kat snorts, knowing exactly who’s calling her.

 

“Chris,” Kat turns her chair around to greet her coworker. It’s a secret to Chris that she thinks of him as a giant, cuddly bear.

 

“Do you need any help with that?” Chris asks looking at the load of papers lying on her desk.

 

“Nah, it’s really fine. Just a busy week, I guess.” She shrugs.

 

“Well, if you need any help, you know where I am. Right there at the _sad_ corner, where no one ever visits.” He smiles awkwardly pointing at his cube.

 

Kat laughs, waving her hand at him to go. “Sure, sure, but I’ll be fine.”

 

“Are you still up for dinner next week?” Instead of returning to his seat, he asks leaning on her desk.

 

“Well, it depends on how much work I get done this week, but for now, it sounds good.” Kat answers with a smile.

 

“Awesome!” Chris nearly shouts, catching people’s attentions around them. _Sorry_ , he mouths an apology and lowers his head near Kat and whispers, this time in a much quieter voice. “I’ll make sure to help you out, so we can go out later.”

 

He twirls around happily walking back to his corner. There is a slight blush on Kat’s cheeks.

 

∞

 

Tom frowns when someone joins him hurriedly in the elevator. _Hmm,_ he thinks to himself. _Look who I have here_.

 

“It’s Chris, right? I feel terrible that we haven’t had any opportunity to have a proper conversation. You probably already know, but I’m Tom.” Tom says, raising his hand for a handshake with a bright smile on his face.

 

“Oh, yeah, it’s nice to finally talk to you.” Chris smiles along, shaking his hand.

 

Tom likes the grip. He likes the smile. He likes the blue eyes. _Occasional fuck with him won’t be so bad_ , he thinks. His head is already busily twisting and turning on how to make things work. There is one more option for him to choose from on whom to toy with.

 

Poor Kat must be working extra hours for him every day this week. The truth is he’d never gotten that email he mentioned to Kat. He simply wanted to change things up. Being creative and different, yet more effective than others, is what made him more successful than any others in this dull place.

 

He’s about to lose count of how many people he has under his control. Such easy people. So easy that he almost feels sorry having to use them for his advantage. But that is life, isn’t it? If they are foolish and weak, they crawl on the ground and weep, while strong predators, like him, pick from the pathetic lot on who to devour.

 

∞

 

When next week comes, it is Chris who cancels dinner with Kat with the saddest expression on his face. He tells her that his hometown friend has paid him a surprise visit. Kat can’t help but express a tinge of disappointment, but when Chris asks if she would like to join him nonetheless and go out to dinner, she politely refuses and heads home.

 

∞

 

When Chris opens the door to his cozy one story house, it is Tom who follows behind with an anticipated smile. Although he has expected this outcome, Tom is quite surprised at the short amount of time it took for Chris to take the initiative and invite him to dinner.

 

Up to this point, they have carried on with their empty conversations that do not reveal much about either of them. Tom doesn’t mind; it’s not unusual for people to keep their personal life separate from work even when they’re fucking each other. Tom doesn’t mind, really. He can care less about their lives that are filled with uninteresting, repetitive routines.

 

It comes as a pleasant surprise that Chris is quite the cook. Tom is halfway done with his plate when Chris smacks his forehead with a grunt. Tom cocks his eyebrow in question and watches Chris rush back to the kitchen without an explanation. He dryly laughs as Chris scurries back to his seat with a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses on his hands.

 

“I almost forgot about this.” Chris says shyly as he pours the red liquid down their glasses.

 

“It would have been a shame.” Tom replies.

 

His eyes are fixed on Chris. His curiosity becomes stronger as he sees Chris’ hands slightly tremble, showing how nervous the man is. Tom wonders how a man his age could still be so cluttered over a simple date.

 

Then his thought leads to Chris’ performance at work. It was almost a routine for Chris to stumble and drop his files. Surely the company hired him for a reason, but Tom cannot see it yet as he witnesses Chris’ foolishness on a daily basis. Is it possible that Chris may have shown a different side of himself that somehow persuaded the company to hire him?

 

“Here you go.” Chris pushes the glass forward Tom with a sheepish grin.

 

“Cheers,” Tom says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

It is a mixture of bittersweetness that spreads inside him, one sip after another. Tom suddenly feels impatient. He wants to skip all these foolish dating procedures and get to the part that he came for. Hands on Chris’ body and fucking until both of them can’t come anymore.

 

Tom wants to skip all this romance, because all of a sudden, a wave of exhaustion crashes onto him, bringing along with it, an uncontrollable amount of drowsiness. His mind urgently tells him to walk away. He tries to stand from his seat, but sways and nearly falls to the floor if isn’t for Chris wrapping his strong arms around him.

 

“Cheers,” Chris repeats with a smile and Tom’s head falls on Chris’ shoulder.

 

∞

 

When Tom wakes up, it is with a severe headache and a frustrated groan. He discovers that his arms are tied behind his back in a cold and creepy basement. He would have laughed at how cliché and not-at-all creative the place looks if he wasn’t so angry at himself. Instead, he bites his lips lest more groans slip past his lips. He doesn’t want to show any weakness. He refuses to do so. He cannot stop asking himself, ‘How did this happen?’

 

Above him, he hears a lock unlock and footsteps echo down the stairs. Finally, Tom laughs. He laughs, because it’s Chris who enters the basement with a charming smile, and not with his usual awkward one.

 

“Oh, this is fun.” Chris says.

 

This is fun because Tom isn’t scared. This is fun because Tom’s ego cracked. This is fun because Tom got tricked right under his nose and his façade keeps breaking. His focus is breaking because his head is in pain and he cannot believe that he got played like this. That is just not acceptable.

 

“What are you going to do to me?” Tom asks.

 

“Your voice,” Chris says and that’s all he says. He’s smiling, watching Tom with admiration and amusement. _Of course_ , Chris thinks. His voice doesn’t shake. Where is that fear that Chris longs for so much from his victims? Chris isn’t sure whether to be offended or aroused. Of course, he is aroused.

 

Tom sighs. His headache is becoming too overwhelming and he has to shut his eyes. He needs to come out of this alive. This isn’t because there is some kind of foolish desperation to live. This isn’t because of some petty fear he has for Chris. To Tom, this is a game and currently, it is a game he is losing. To him, death means defeat and simply the thought of it makes him sick with anger. He will beg if he has to as long as he can come out of this as the victor and oh, does he beg pretty.

 

“Please,” When he opens his eyes, his eyes are filled with tears, filled with fear. “Please let me go.”

 

“Decisions, decisions,” Chris sighs and shakes his head, unable to contain his excited smile. “How did I not see it?” He says and Tom’s eyes turn to a glare. He’s cracking again; that’s precisely the question he’s been asking himself, although he would like it if he was on the other end rather than being tied up to a chair like this. _How pathetic_. This is surely the worst feeling ever.

 

“A bit of clumsiness from a guy who is as big as me? _That’s_ a bit of charm.” Chris says. “Ladies call it cute and adorable that is until I drug them, tie them up, play with them, and kill them.” Chris finishes, throwing Tom the warmest smile.

 

“Did they scream your name?” Tom asks.

 

“Oh, no, that’s when I fuck them. I wish they did call out for me, though. Usually, they scream for help. They scream for someone they love: parents, siblings, lovers, and friends and so on.” Chris explains and there is something so calm about his demeanor.

 

This is the face that he’s most comfortable with. These are the words and actions he’s most pleased with. From all the shows he puts up for others, this is his truest face. This is Chris Hemsworth, the sociopathic, serial killer.

 

“Would you like me to scream your name?” Tom asks pursing his lips like a shy schoolboy.

 

Chris smiles as he walks closer towards Tom. He stands behind him and bends down so that his lips tickle Tom’s ear, “Until your voice goes hoarse.”

 

Tom smiles in return as he turns his face, so close to Chris, their breaths mingling. “Well, I’m drugged and tied up. I’m all weak and vulnerable. Now play with me, Chris.”

 

It doesn’t take much for Chris to bend a little lower so their lips are brushing when his cell phone rings. Tom’s breath stutters in disappointment, so close to achieving what he had in mind, only to fail. Chris is more than a foot away now, taking the phone out his pocket.

 

“I have to get this. It’s my sister. She kinda gets pissed if I don’t answer it, so…” Chris makes a face that would imply how sorry he is for being rude, answering a phone during a conversation, meanwhile ignoring the fact that Tom’s tied up to a chair in his basement.

 

“No worries. Go ahead, please.” Tom urges with a nod.

 

“Sorry.” Chris apologizes before he heads upstairs.

 

Tom rolls his eyes at his shameless behavior. His head is still groggy, but he takes advantage of his time alone and carefully studies the place. It is too empty and Tom wonders where Chris hides his tools and when he’ll take them out. He slowly wriggles his wrists tied behind the chair.

 

“Fuck,” He mutters. There is no way he can untie this.

 

His head jolts up as he hears Chris come down the stairs, almost prancing from the excitement. “So, Tom, I made up my mind on what to do with you.” Chris smiles.

 

“Oh, do please enlighten me.” Tom smiles back.

 

“You’re too pretty. You’re too-” Unable to contain his excitement, Chris shakes his fists together. “You’re perfect.”

 

“Thank you.” Tom says trying to keep a light tone, but the more he sees Chris excited, the more his smile is forced out. The truth is his smiles are always forced out, but this time, Chris can see it. It’s tight. It’s unwilling. It’s bad acting. Chris knows this and Tom knows he knows this. It is a humiliation Tom has never felt and he’s pulling at his chains, seething in anger, before he thinks better and stops himself.

 

“I just want to keep you forever, but nothing keeps me interested forever. I don’t believe in forever.” Chris says with an adoring look on his face. Now Tom is looking at him, his face completely expressionless, but his eyes with that of murder.

  
“So how are you, Tom? Would you like some water?” Chris asks with a voice filled with concern. _It’s disgusting_ , Tom thinks.

 

“I’m fine, actually.” Tom answers in a quiet voice, even though his throat is dry. Chris sighs, that sounds closer to a moan. His body shudders in anticipation. Tom straightens from his chair as he comes closer.

 

“You must be so angry,” Chris says with a smirk. He hums in pleasure before he continues. “I feel you and this time, I think I really mean it.”

 

His eyes shake in madness and Tom keeps his mouth pursed tight, his glare unmoving. He comes even closer, his face filled with joy and expectancy that Tom does want to satisfy.

 

“Can I make you fall like them? Can I put that same fear in your eyes? Can I make you scream for help and cry in pain? Can I make you feel completely and utterly helpless?” He mutters in a low voice.

  
With a tired smile, Tom leans his head on Chris’ so that their foreheads are touching. “Chris, darling, don’t push your luck. Dream high, but not that high.”

 

∞

 

There is a dry erase board in front Tom. He focuses on the board and fights off his eyes from blurring. He craves for a soft comfortable bed. It doesn’t need to be the one at home. At this point, he feels any would do, anything besides this goddamn chair. He keeps wondering if anyone is looking for him.

 

Chris thumps down the stairs with a big grin on his face and writes on the board with a red marker, “DAY 4”.

 

He turns to Tom like he’s been waiting for this moment all day long. It’s a scene he enjoys watching more than anything: the stench, the torn clothes, the countless bloody marks under them, and numerous bruises that resemble his hands spread across the pale body. His favorite is the bruise around Tom’s neck. How beautiful he was as he gasped for air before his body went limp!

 

“How are you doing, Tom? Is there anything I can get for you?” He asks as he gently brushes off Tom’s hair.

 

Tom winks and smiles at him. He bites down hard on his bloody lips trying to hide his shivers. Tom thinks that Chris had lowered the temperature even more, but it may simply be that his body is giving up. He’s getting tired of his worn out clothes sticking to his skin. Chris never gives him enough time for them to dry.

 

“God, I just-” Chris moans again that makes Tom sick to the stomach. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so strong unlike them, but of course, _we_ are different. We’re beyond them, way beyond them, but our bodies, Tom, are our bodies just as superior as our minds?” Chris asks as he rubs soothing circles around Tom’s neck, feeling his heart beat.

Tom straightens himself from the chair again, but his body screams in pain. A pained groan slips past his lips and he cringes immediately for his lack of control.

 

“Tom, you are breaking the record here. I have never kept anyone alive for this long until now.” Chris says in awe.

 

“What was the previous,” Tom’s voice dries out and breaks before he can continue. He clears his throat. “What was the previous record?”

 

“30 hours,” Chris answers. His eyes are reminiscent of the good old days, but soon they’re back on Tom. _These are better days._

 

∞

 

Studying Chris has rather been an easy task for Tom. Throughout the span of five days, Tom witnesses, time and again, how Chris is under the illusion that _everything_ is under control. He is certain that Tom is giving in, that he is becoming more vulnerable, that with one more push, he will be begging for mercy. Meanwhile, Tom is certain that Chris’ hubris will be the death of him.

 

Tom planned early on of his escape, but he has been waiting for the right time. He is aware that timing is crucial. If he had acted too early, it may not have been believable, but if he acts too late, he really will be too worn out to put up a good fight against Chris.

 

∞

 

When Chris returns to the basement, he finds Tom with an erection. He smirks and Tom’s face twists in frustration and shame, igniting Chris’ desire to debase him even more. He has had in mind to fuck him since the day Tom offered to help him in the office.

 

That was to be his final act. He will fuck him. He will wrap his hands around Tom’s elegant, long neck. He will tighten his grip as he comes inside. The fresh purple will spread across his pale, soft skin. Lifeless, Tom will make a beautiful porcelain doll. What a beautiful sight it will be! Tom will be his most special kill. He has never killed _his kind_ before.

 

“Do you need help with that?” Chris asks glancing down to his erection and as he expects, Tom cringes and turns his face to the wall.

 

He closes his distance and kneels in front of Tom with a gentle smile. It is almost that of pity and understanding. He slowly rubs his hand over Tom’s drenched trousers, causing him to moan unwillingly. He doesn’t hide his satisfaction as he watches Tom squirm under his hand, bucking his hips forward and breathing heavily with tears in his eyes.

 

“Please! Please…” Tom cries out and Chris knows that his time has come to an end.

 

Five days, it has taken Tom five long days to give in. In a way, Chris is disappointed. He has expected this to last at least a week. He moves his hand away from Tom, enjoying the way he whimpers, begging for him to continue.

 

“Patience, Tom.” He tsks. He walks behind the chair, loosening the chains. He will throw Tom under the floor, tear his stained clothes off, and fuck him until his body grows cold. He may even enjoy Tom’s feeble fights, too weak to throw a proper punch.

 

Tom’s chains jangle as Chris undoes the link. He smiles as he finds confusion written on Tom’s weary face. He gently guides his bruised and scratched wrists to his front. Tom is pliant as he links the chains together on his lap. He plans to enjoy every single minute of what is left with Tom, breathing and alive.

 

∞

 

On the fifth day, Tom is finally free from his chains. He looks down where Chris is lying on the floor unconscious. Despite his bruised and battered state, he stands tall above him with a satisfied smile. He quite likes the bruise blooming around Chris’ neck, the mark of chains.

 

“Cheers,” He says although he is fully aware that Chris cannot hear him.

 

∞

 

Chris wakes, feeling lightheaded and thirsty. He tries to rub his sore neck and he notices that his arms are bound behind his back. There is a quiet laughter to his right and he finds Tom, watching him with interest. The game has begun and the tables turned. Tom has got to make up for his loss.

 

“How are you, Chris? Is there anything I can get for you?” Tom asks and his voice drips with mock concern. Chris laughs and shakes his head.

 

“Ugh, I feel nasty. You don’t mind if I use your shower, do you?” Tom asks, stretching his tired limbs that have been tied to the metal chair for days. His usual, soft smile is back on his face.

 

“Not at all, Tom. The bathroom’s in the second room to your left, upstairs.” Chris answers politely with a smile. His voice is hoarse from being choked and Tom is more than satisfied of his doing.

 

“Thanks. I’ll clean up and be back soon, alright?” Tom winks and this time, he does so happily.

 

“Watch your steps,” Chris advices behind him as Tom leaves the basement, leaving him to contemplate on his foolish mistakes.

 

∞

 

When Tom returns to the basement, he is dressed in Chris’ clean clothes. The sky blue shirt is rather loose on him, barely covering his ass and his bare legs. His hair is still dripping drops of water from the shower. Without hesitation, he spreads his legs and sits on top of Chris, slowly bucking his hips on Chris’ legs. He buries his face and rubs his wet hair on his neck.

 

“I used your shampoo. Now I smell just like you and I love it. I’ve always been curious what you use.” He whispers, licking and nipping Chris’ ear.

 

∞

 

Tom moans loud and heavy as he moves his body up and down, feeling Chris’ thick cock slide in and out of him, stretching him pleasurably painful. He has intentionally indulged himself with Chris’ items. He had showered, using his body wash and shampoo. He had shaved and put on his aftershave. He had worn Chris’ clothes, applying his cologne on his neck and wrists.

 

Tom knows that this makes Chris happy. He knows that this boosts his ego. _Let him be blind with pride. Let him be distracted by all these._ He buries his face on the crook of Chris’ neck and holds tight onto his shoulders as he rides him hard. He has kept the shirt on, fully aware of how the fabric sticks to his sweaty skin.

 

“Ah, fuck! Chris, you feel so good inside me!” He whimpers, losing himself in the pleasure, the pleasure of victory. He rubs his erect and leaking cock against Chris’ bare skin, his t-shirt rolled up.

 

“Enjoy yourself, darling.” He gasps, knowing just the perfect spot for Chris’ cock to push into. He smiles in satisfaction as he sees Chris shudder in arousal. He moans louder, knowing that he’s won, knowing that the way Chris groans and bucks his hips are not a façade.

 

∞

 

“Where are you going, princess?” Chris asks, curiously observing Tom’s choice of attire for the day. Tom is wearing his old clothes that were ruined and bloody from days ago.

 

Tom stares at Chris for a long while. He notices the bags under his eyes, his chapped and bloody lips, and numerous bruises spread across his body. His patience and endurance have been marvelous. Satisfied of the outcome, Tom smiles and kisses him gently on the cheek.

 

He turns around and picks one of his favorite scalpels from Chris’ toolbox. He catches the slight change in Chris’ face as he walks past him to where his wrists are bound behind the chair. If Chris’ choice was chains, Tom’s was ropes, carefully and delicately knotted from Chris’ wrists to elbows. Without a second thought, he cuts one of the tight knots with the scalpel.

 

“Behave and don’t slip,” Tom advises before he heads upstairs. He doesn’t turn around, and oh, how much he holds himself back from doing so, because he knows Chris’ face would be priceless. The surprised look on his face will forever be one of his proudest moments, but he doesn’t turn around. He should not waste anymore time.

 

∞

 

Tom grips the scalpel tight in his hand. He walks and walks as far as he’s able to. He discards his shoes somewhere along the walk. When he’s reached deep inside the nearby forest, he cuts himself with the scalpel. His pale skin opens up so easily at the touch, blending naturally with some of the nearly healed and less healed scars from days before. He lies on the dirty, muddy ground and waits, occasionally crying for help.

 

∞

 

Less than an hour later, Tom is rescued by a young couple, riding their bikes, and is soon taken to the nearby hospital. When the police question him about the kidnapper, Tom bites his lips hard to fight off his tears and clutches the sheets to hide his trembles.

 

“Most of the time, I was blindfolded. I have no idea what he wanted from me. Most of my memories are a blur. I’m sorry.” He shuts his eyes after his apology and he feels his tear trickle down his cheek.

 

“No worries, Mr. Hiddleston. We’ll take of this, okay? We’ll catch the man who did this to you. You’re in good hands now, so get some rest.” They assure him.

 

When they finally leave him in peace, Tom makes himself comfortable in the uncomfortable hospital bed and smiles under the rough sheets. He briefly wonders if Chris is searching for him in his neighborhood as he falls deep asleep.

 

∞

 

It is only two weeks later after the terrible event that Tom returns to work. People have insisted that he needed more rest, maybe even some long term therapy, after what he had gone through and survived, but Tom insisted even more that he must return to work.

 

So many people, including the ones he doesn’t know and can care less about, have patted his shoulders, arms, and back, showing admiration and respect for his bravery and miraculous survival. When he enters his department, all his colleagues stand from their seats to welcome him and hand him bundles of flowers and small welcome back gifts as he walks to his office.

 

Tom finds Chris pace towards him, politely pushing through the crowd, but as usual, he drops his files and papers slip all over the floor. He sees him cringe miserably, looking like a small child trapped in a grown man’s body. He also notices that some of the female workers in the office are looking at him with adoration while he grabs his files.

 

“It’s so good to see you, Tom.” Chris grins, awkwardly scratching his hair.

 

“It’s good to see you, too, Chris.” Tom smiles gently.

 

They look at each other for several seconds and Tom finds it amusing that Chris doesn’t show a glimpse of his true self even when his face is turned away from others.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here you go.” Chris places his crumpled files on Tom’s desk, leaning closer towards him.

 

“Thanks,” Tom says in return as he watches Chris leave his office.

 

He shakes his head as the door shuts. Chris had decided to wear the shirt Tom had worn during sex. He had noticed the blood stain still lightly scattered across the sky blue collar.

 

There is a knock on his door, probably other colleagues unable to mind their own business. Tom puts on a nice smile and answers, “Come in.”

 

It’s Chris again. “Hey, Tom, are we still up for dinner this Friday?” He asks innocently. His eyes are so full of hope that Tom is temporarily taken aback. Silence surrounds them for a while before Tom’s smile returns and he answers, “Yes, of course.”

 

The door closes and Tom’s body shudders in excitement already at the thought of what is to come. _Let the second round begin_.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is greatly appreciated; also posted on [tumblr](http://ambiguouslines.tumblr.com/tagged/as_it_seems)  
> 


End file.
